


Memories

by Libika



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libika/pseuds/Libika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alma Torran Week : Memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr for the Alma Torran week! It's about this precious cinnamon roll named Ugo.   
> Zagan/Belial in the background!

 Things had changed so much, in the course of a few weeks. The shimmering castle, which had been his home, was now in ruins. The tall windows were nothing more than pieces upon pieces of shattered glass, scattered on the ground. No flower bloomed in the gardens,  no guards were welcoming him at the entrance, with their warm smile and a pat on his shoulder. The gate was destroyed, the library had been burned. An important part of his life had been taken away from him, and never would come back. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, he knew he couldn’t, and never will. **  
**

 He felt a bit guilty for lying, but he had to come here one last time, before… well, before his task. Changing worlds was going to be a new, terrifying experience. But it’s not as if their world would last long anyway. Ugo was holding his staff tightly. As usual, he was wearing his scarf, his long robes, and his turquoise hair was braided. Although, his scarf wasn’t his old one. It was a present from Setta, after his previous one got torned during a mission.

 

 At the thought of his friend, he could feel his heart’s painful beat. When they had escaped from David’s Cathedral, the only thing that remained of his fellow magician and friend was his bloodied staff. And Tess’ small, fragile body burned and agonising. Even now, he could remember the little boy’s voice, as he called for his mother, begging her to help him. The same child who would always steal his glasses and pull pranks on him.

 

 He sighed. Painfully.

 

 Yet, he still looked at the little, shining sphere floating next to him. Sheba and Solomon’s love was there. A brave queen and an equally brave, selfless king. Two people who fought to their death for their comrades, their kingdom. Aladdin. His only hope. He had loved this soon-to-be boy even before he was given to him by his mother. He never any children in his life, but he knew that he loved Aladdin like his own. Even if he was still forming, slower than others, thanks to Sheba’s magic and his own.

 

 “You will probably never know this place, but this should have been your home, Aladdin.” He knew that he would get no answer, yet, the glowing sphere next to him was a comforting presence. At least, he managed to protect something. He took a glance at the sky, seeing orange mingling with blue and yellow, some stars scattered there and there. I am going to miss it so much. After that, I won’t be able to see it anymore. He tried his best to chase these thoughts.

 

 He walked towards the castle’s entrance, slowly, enjoying every moment. It reminded him of his life in Elder David’s cathedral, or rather, fortress. He was alone, and had no friends, save for Solomon, barely ten, yet with such a strife for knowledge and so much kindness towards him. He comforted him when no one would. In this way, he was his mother’s copy. He had known her for a long time. She was the one who found him, as an orphan. She watched over him, and trusted him with Solomon’s well being.

 

 He could still recall her last words.

 

_“Ah, Uraltugo. You never called me mother.” She was lying on her bed, pale as pearls, but her deep, blue eyes was shimmering like jewels. She gave Ugo a weak smile, before coughing. “It would have been nice if you called me mother, or mom.” She chuckled lightly, despite her  state. Ugo was at her side, kneeling next to her bed. He held her hand. He was holding it tightly, tears flowing like an endless ocean._

 

_“Mom…” And he meant it. His own parents abandoned him, and David was too cruelly to even be called a father, but she was, had been, and always will be his mother. Teaching him how to fight, about magic and the history of this land, pinching his cheeks in an affectionate manner and hugging him tightly when he did something well. “Mommy…mommy.” He was an adult, and he knew that he shouldn’t cry like this, but everyone had the right to cry when their loved one died._

 

_“Thank you…Always remember this. Solomon is my son, but so are you, my dear Uraltugo.”_

 

 He felt his throat burn, soon noticing that he was crying. He wiped his tears with his robes’ sleeves, before moving onward. Not everything had been reduced to ruins. Some corridors were still intact, and Zagan’s room hadn’t been damaged as much as he thought. Entering it, he coughed, for a thick coat of dust covered the place. The blond’s books were still there, but his beloved plants had withered away. Another memory came to him.

 

_It was a warm spring day. One without any conflict, peaceful. It was only a few days after Solomon’s coronation.  Ugo had just come back from a meeting with Solomon and Setta, and was walking down the corridor. As he walked, he could smell the faint scent of tea, roses and some plants that were unknown to him. Following his senses, he arrived in front of Zagan’s room. Surprisingly, Amon’s apprentice was sleeping on the ground, a cup of tea and a book next to him._

 

_But Belial was there too.  Sleeping, one of his arms was around Zagan’s waist, the blond’s head on his shoulder. Ugo smiled sweetly, closed the door to give his friends some privacy, and went to his own chambers. Such days were rare, they deserved to enjoy it._

 

 He picked up one of Zagan’s bracelets, before putting it back on the ground. Closing the door, he began to climb up the stairs on his right. A small room was on his left, damaged beyond anybody’s imagination. But he knew who this room belonged to. He knew every corner of the castle. Small pieces of wood, and a sculpted horse’s head was laying on the ground. It had been Tess’s room, for a short time before his death.

 

 Every magician of the Resistance had loved the boy. His only wish was to see his parents safe and sound, be a good big brother for Aladdin, a strong magician like his parents. But he never had the chance.

 

_“Hey Tess! Look at what I got you!” Ithan was grinning brightly, holding a carved toy, one that he had bought in a village. He kneeled next to Tess, the little boy’s green eyes shining with happiness. “And what do you say?” He pointed at his cheek, waiting for the boy._

 

_“Thanks a bunch, uncle Ithan!” he kissed Ithan’s cheek, before his ‘uncle’ hugged him tightly. Tess was laughing without a care in the world, until he saw his parents._

 

_“Don’t spoil him too much, aru!” Falan had said it teasingly. She took her son from Ithan’s arms, before kissing him on the cheek. Wahid arrived shortly after, holding his wife and son his arms. Ithan smile got wider, if it was possible. Ugo was there, but did not say any word. He reading quietly, with Solomon and Sheba by his side._

 

 He ran out of the room. He was composed around everyone else, but this place was so full of memories, sweet and sour, that he felt on the verge of losing his self-control. But he didn’t want to forget it. He continued his walking, Aladdin’s tiny, reassuring presence next to him. He was on one of the balconies before he realised it. He pointed at the sky.

 

 “See that cloud over there, Aladdin? When Arba and Solomon wanted to train their magic instead of sparring, they’d always do it there. We never knew who to cheer for!” Even if the memory was a good one, the pain of Arba’s betrayal was a wound that would never heal. She had been their friend, their sister - especially to Sheba - and she threw away their trust. But she had been their friend, and these moments had been real.

 

 The further he advanced, the more desolate and ruined the place was. In fact, what once was Solomon and Sheba’s room was nothing more than a pile of rocks, pieces of wall and ashes.

 

_Solomon, my dear friend. You have done so much for all of us. I will always hold you dearly in my heart, as my king and as my friend. May you rest peacefully among the rukhs, Sheba. You deserved it, after your hard work._

 

 It was a silent prayer. Aladdin, when the time would come, he’d gain his father’s unique power, the wisdom that all wanted for themselves. He would be able to see his parents, yet, will never meet them. He will have the fate of the world on his shoulders at a young age.

 

_“Whoah! These are amazing! You’re so smart!” Ugo was startled by the boy’s presence in his chambers. To have Elder David’s own son was something he never expected. Ever since the boy’s mother had died, he was his old self once again. A shy, reserved man, who would rather be alone with his books and parchments. What Solomon was holding were theories he considered too complicated to be of use to a magician._

 

_Yet, the boy was encouraging him. Like his mother before…_

 

_“You’re amazing Ugo!” Solomon’s eyes were shining with a child’s wonder at a new, magical discovery. “Say, can I come more often? I can sneak up!” He had given him a bright grin, and Ugo couldn’t help but weakly nod._

 

_And the boy, day after day, would come to his room and force him to tell him everything he knew about magic. And about his mother, the wonderful woman he never knew. Arba joined them soon after, and this had been how the Resistance began, in a messy room full of books and parchments, and quills, and ink._

 

 He never expected this memory to surface once again. He didn’t like to think of his time in David’s cathedral, but among the moments of loneliness, were moments that he would keep preciously in his heart, like a treasure. He sat on the dirty ground, pulling Aladdin on his thighs. Soon this small embryon would become a boy. He wondered if he would have his father’s physique, or his mother’s. But whatever happened, he was going to look after this child, no matter what.

 

 I am going to be immortal… It is strange to say it, even if the theory is already known. He unbraided his hair, letting the wind’s breeze caress them, like a gentle mother.

 

_Aladdin, I hope you’ll be able to make good memories in this other world. I will after you as much as I can, but one day, you’ll have to follow your own path, without me._

_Until then, I will keep you safe._


End file.
